


Noises

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -After hearing some suspicious noises coming out of Dean's bedroom the night before, Sam decides to confront his brother._





	

“Dean, we need to talk.”

Sam's voice sounds very serious while he leans against the kitchen counter and folds his stupidly long arms in front of his chest, glaring at his older brother with the familiar _I-don't-support-your-life-choices_ look. He doesn't even waste his time with a “Good morning” or something similar and that's always a bad sign.

Dean, however, isn't really impressed by that. He places the bacon onto the hot pan at a leisurely pace, ignoring Sam completely, until he finally shoots a quick glance over his shoulder.

“And what's so important at 7 a.m.?”

Sam huffs impatiently. “You _know_!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, I don't know. That's why I'm asking.”

Sam fidgets uncomfortably as if he'd rather be somewhere else and doesn't want to have this discussion at all. And then he starts to gesticulate, flailing his limbs in Dean's vague direction, and performs a very complicated dance with his eyebrows.

“How about we talk about last night?”

Quite suddenly Dean's attention is grabbed, but he keeps himself from acting like a deer in the headlights. Instead he clears his throat and asks, a bit croaky, “What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at you!” Sam says, pointing at Dean's face with an accusatory expression. “There is that stupid grin I've seen so many times and I think it's even worse than ever before. And let's not even mention that huge hickey on your neck.”

Dean ducks his head and tries forcefully – and highly unsuccessfully – to fight back a blush.

 _Damn_.

Yeah, he's been smiling like a lunatic since he woke up this morning and noticed Castiel still lying beside him, pressed as close as possible, their legs entangled, their breaths intermingled. It felt so freaking warm and _right_ that it actually took some time for Dean to realize that he wasn't dreaming.

That last night really happened.

“So, what about it?” Dean asks defensively, avoiding Sam's narrowed eyes and aiming for casual. “I'm not allowed to have some fun?”

Although _'fun'_ is the understatement of the freaking century.

Even the goddamned millennium.

Because the thing Dean and Castiel started the night before, after months and years of longing glances and pining and pain – it's _so much more_ than that!

And at the same time it begun so unspectacular.

So unlike anything else in their lives.

For a very long while Dean had imagined his first kiss with Castiel would be kinda rushed and desperate, maybe after a hunt almost gone wrong and Dean far too emotional to care about his usual defenses. A mix of nearly-dying and overboiling feelings – just like it always has been with them.

But in the end it happened during a TV documentation about an old European king – that Henry guy with the six wives, if Dean remembers correctly – while Castiel argued quite passionately with the narrator about inaccuracies, looking endearing and like everything Dean ever wanted in life, and the hunter couldn't help himself any longer and leaned in.

And felt as though he won the fucking lottery when Castiel responded very enthusiastically.

Yeah, it'd been freaking awesome!

So  _of course_ there is this stupid smile on his face right now!

And Dean isn't sure if it'll ever go away.

“Oh God, it actually hurts looking at you,” Sam groans. “It's been worse enough hearing it, I don't need to see the annoying aftermath.”

Dean listens up. “You …  _heard_ us?”

Granted, it wouldn't be far from the first time Sam got a portion of Dean's love life against his will, but thinking about his baby brother overhearing his first night with Castiel – that, though they didn't go quite far, had been one of the most intense experiences of Dean's existence – doesn't feel right and he finds himself grimacing.

“I walked by your room and heard … well, _things_.” Sam shudders. “And sure, it wasn't the worst I've ever heard, but –”

“But?”

Sam sighs deeply. “You should know that I don't approve.”

_What_ ?

Dean's stomach drops several floors and he can't do anything else but stare at his brother in utter shock.

Did he _seriously_ hear that correctly?

He actually thought that Sam would be all teasing and smug and supportive, eager to make Dean blush as often as possible about the whole thing while simultaneously rooting for their relationship so fucking hard, always grinning and smirking – but seeing him now, glaring at Dean as if he committed a serious crime, leaves a very bitter taste in the hunter's mouth.

It feels horrible.

“You … don't?” Dean hates that his voice sounds so weak and unsure. Sam's opinion has always been so damned important to him and to imagine that he doesn't –

“You really think I'd be okay with you bringing some random stranger here to have a good time?” Sam asks incredulously. “The bunker is supposed to be a fucking secret, with all the knowledge and the dangers and the cursed objects and whatever, and you acting so irresponsible isn't helping the issue.”

He keeps on ranting about Dean's poor judgment while the older Winchester just stares at his brother, sighing downright relieved. Obviously Sam noticed the second person in Dean's room, but didn't realize  _who_ it'd been.

Apparently he didn't catch the ten minutes Dean moaned, yelled and whispered Castiel's name on repeat like a prayer over and over again.

And thank God for that!

“So you think I'm a reckless idiot?” Dean summarizes and in the back of his mind he knows that he should feel offended by that and he sure as hell will be at some point in the not so distant future, but right now he's far too happy to deal with any negative feelings.

It'd have been devastating if Sam honestly would have been against Dean and Castiel taking it to the next level.

Heart-crushing.

And Dean wouldn't have had any idea how to deal with a mess like that.

“Well, sometimes you come to some stupid decisions,” Sam agrees, apparently totally unaware of Dean's inner turmoil. “And dragging some stranger to the bunker –”

Suddenly he's interrupted by Castiel shuffling into the kitchen and he immediately straightens his posture, clearing his throat awkwardly and looking so fucking sheepish Dean would have mocked him mercilessly under normal circumstances, but fortunately for Sam Dean is way to busy enjoying the sight in front of him.

Castiel is like a sleep-rumpled dream come true and Dean has a hard time not to make some embarrassing noises, probably not dissimilar to the ones Sam overheard the night before. But how the hell is he supposed to keep a clear head with the former angel sporting a delicious bedhead while being wrapped in Dean's clothes? Castiel obviously took some sweatpants and a shirt out of the hunter's closet without hesitating, like it's the most normal thing to do, and Dean's heart clenches at the easy familiarity.

“Coffee?” Castiel rumbles, rubbing his eyes and yawning quite unashamedly.

Since becoming human Castiel turned out to be the opposite of a morning person. Without some caffeine in his system he's monosyllabic and grumpy and the best thing that ever happened to Dean.

“Sure, sunshine,” Dean greets him cheerfully before taking the frying bacon off the open flame, grabbing a mug with coffee he actually used for himself just a minute ago and pressing it into Castiel's awaiting hands.

It's a testament to the significance of the night before that Castiel even spares a moment to smile at Dean before he downs the beverage in one, long gulp.

And Dean registers from the corner of his eye that Sam seems surprised by the small, yet so meaningful gesture as well.

“You look good,” Dean whispers, quite pleased when Castiel flushes an adorable pink and drops his gaze. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”

Castiel bites his bottom lip. “They smell very nice,” he admits in a low voice, obviously determined not to let Sam hear his little confession.

And granted, they agreed on informing Sam about their changed relationship at their own pace, however, since his stupid brother decided to be sneaky and ignore personal boundaries Dean sees no reason whatsoever to hold off.

So he surges forward and connects their lips in a soft kiss. Castiel stiffens for a moment, most likely very aware of Sam's presence, but just a moment later Dean can feel him smiling into the kiss and returning it as eager as the night before.

A now familiar, and yet still so new and exciting warmth rushes through Dean's system and he can't help thinking that he's the luckiest guy alive.

“Go back to my room, Cas” Dean breaths after they pulled away from each other a little bit. “I promised you breakfast in bed after all.”

Castiel beams at those words. “Don't take too long.”

He kisses Dean once more, apparently very pleased with Dean having no issues with being affectionate in front of his brother, before giving Sam a shy smile and leaving the room.

And Dean finds himself watching his retreating form like some lovesick girl.

And he couldn't care less.

It feels like an eternity – though it's probably been about a minute or so – until he finally turns his attention back to his brother.

And Sam … well, his eyes obviously grew really fucking huge when Dean wasn't looking.

His jaw dropped at some point, now appearing slack and freaking useless, and he stares back and forth between Dean and the hallway where Castiel just disappeared around the corner, shell-shocked.

“You … Cas …” he stammers, unable to form coherent sentences. “What … _how_ …?”

Dean feels kinda smug watching his overwhelmed brother, but in place of grinning from ear to ear he plasters an fake-angry expression on his face and asks in a dark tone, “So, you really said you don't approve?”

Sam's brain cells clearly turned to mush during the kiss because instead of calling Dean out on his bullshit he takes it for real, spluttering immediately and shaking his head so forcefully Dean almost fears it'll fall off sometime soon.

“No, _of course not_!” he hurries to assure, sounding frantic. “I had no idea that you and Cas … shit, I never meant … I'm happy for you –”

Dean laughs aloud and slaps Sam's shoulder a bit harder than necessary. “Don't get your panties in a twist, Sammy. I'm only joking.”

Sam visibly deflates and transforms into a relieved pile of Sasquatch.

“I know you wouldn't … well, _that_ ,” Dean says.

“I would _never_!” Sam states once again, quite firmly. “I'm seriously happy for you guys. I was actually waiting for you to get your shit together, all this tension was killing me –”

And then he suddenly grabs Dean's arm and pulls him into a crushing hug, suffocating his older brother with all the love he can find inside his massive body.

It's _a lot_ of love.

“I'm really happy –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean cuts in and pushes him back to get some air. “Don't get all sappy on me here, okay?”

Sam starts to smirk. “Well, it seems you have no trouble getting sappy without me. I mean, that little scene was very romantic –”

“Oh, shut up!” Dean waves him off. “Don't distract me from the fact that you actually thought I would bring some stranger here for a quick fuck.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, that was kinda shitty of me.”

Dean snorts and crosses his arms. “I would _never_ do something so stupid, alright?” He turns back towards his bacon and proceeds to create a breakfast so freaking awesome Castiel won't be able to stop smiling even for a second. “And it's doesn't matter anyway. There won't be anyone else, so you don't have to worry.”

Sam's eyebrows climb very high hearing those words. “There won't?”

Dean shoots him the _you-are-so-ridiculous_ look. “ _It's Cas_ , man!” he says, more than sure that this is explanation enough. “Of course there won't be anyone else.”

He knew from the moment he first realized he had feelings far from platonic for Castiel all these years ago that as soon as he would dare to take this step there would be no going back.

And usually thoughts like that would have frightened him to no end.

But instead he found himself utterly content with the image, even back then.

“So the noises you heard last night – there will be a lot more,” Dean promises and enjoys the sight of Sam pulling a face.

“I hate you so much, jerk,” Sam says. “ _So. Much._ ”

Dean grins. “Whatever you say, bitch.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For more SPN and Destiel you're free to visit my [tumblr](http://all-i-need-is-destiel.tumblr.com) :D


End file.
